


New Memories

by Heavenly_Bodies



Series: New Memories [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Community: jim_and_bones, First Time, M/M, Road Trips, random acts of Southern landmarks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-06 20:39:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3147860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heavenly_Bodies/pseuds/Heavenly_Bodies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Jim couldn’t believe it, if someone had told him three months ago, when he’d first broached the idea of the trip to his best-friend, that dragging him three thousand miles cross-country and a few hundred more down the Eastern Seaboard would have resulted in more smiles than he’d witnessed in the entire time they’d known each other, he would’ve either laughed in their faces or possibly orchestrated some ship-wide emergency that required them to return to Earth right then just so he could test the hypothesis.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Memories

**Author's Note:**

> The absolutely amazing, patient, and obviously insane Lanalucy beta'd for me yet again. Anything left is me ignoring her sage advice, or just being grammatically cantankerous. :P  
>  **AN1:** It’s not my fault, I swear… it’s theirs!!!  
>  Or to be more precise:  
> Weepingnaiad for [the one that started it all](http://jim-and-bones.livejournal.com/1036211.html)  
> and [the one that fed the fire](http://jim-and-bones.livejournal.com/1036523.html)  
> Josephineja for [the one where I gave up and started writing in earnest](http://jim-and-bones.livejournal.com/1037990.html)  
> and [ the one that gave me an excuse to get Bones naked](http://jim-and-bones.livejournal.com/1050902.html)  
> the_dala for [the one of Chris that really did not help :P~](http://jim-and-bones.livejournal.com/1043593.html)  
> and [the one of Karl that just fueled the damn flames even hotter](http://jim-and-bones.livejournal.com/1044423.html).  
> FYI [Jim_and_Bones](http://jim-and-bones.livejournal.com) is a locked comm.  
>  **AN2:** Okay, so anybody who knows me knows I get downright obsessive over details, like unhealthily so, to the point Arthur has to threaten me to get me to step back and see reason- case in point, I can tell you the exact route including driving distances and exit numbers that the boys take in this fic. I’m also a looooong time trekker, who swore she’d never ship TOS, so when finally giving up and succumbing to the call of AOS Kirk/McCoy I take getting my details right even more seriously- no crossing the streams any more than they already are. Which brings me the reason for this AN… the histories of AOS and TOS Bones are totally fubared imo, and that’s without even trying to take fanon theories into consideration. The simple fact that they both give multiple answers to things makes my world very confusing (Seriously, it’s like trying to keep track of Watson’s wives and bullet wounds!!! Actually, that’s easier.), but anyway, it is a testament to Arthur’s great and far reaching powers that I have thrown caution to the wind and just gone with it, so please forgive anything that doesn’t comply with AOS canon.  
>  **AN3:** Copperhills, TN and the Burra Burra mining operation are real. And I am well aware that in 200 some odd years the destruction caused from the mining operations would be mostly healed, but damn-it there’s a reason the gods invented poetic license.  
>  Also, for anyone interested [this is the car](http://www.plcapplications.com/media/P1000975.JPG).  
>  **AN4:** I am not even slightly sorry for using that one phrase- trust me, you’ll know which one.  
>  **AN5:** Huge thank yous to both Mialoco *hugs* for reading over this and encouraging me and to NickyGabriel for both running this and generally being supportive.  
>  **AN6:** Totally unrelated to the fic in any way, shape, or form- why is it that every time I hear/read the term “emotionally compromised Vulcan” I automatically hear Lance Guest talking about being killed a million miles from Earth with “a gung-ho iguana”?

~~~*~~~*~~~

**Prologue**

Jim couldn’t believe it, if someone had told him three months ago, when he’d first broached the idea of the trip to his best-friend, that dragging him three thousand miles cross-country and a few hundred more down the Eastern Seaboard would have resulted in more smiles than he’d witnessed in the entire time they’d known each other, he would’ve either laughed in their faces or possibly orchestrated some ship-wide emergency that required them to return to Earth right then just so he could test the hypothesis.

As it was, he’d merely waltzed into Medbay one day, sat on the edge of Bones’ desk, and told him they were taking a road trip when they docked for the _Enterprise_ ’s refitting. And Bones, being accustomed to Jim’s odd declarations, set down his PADD- inventory could wait while he sorted Jim’s latest escapade and how much trouble they would get in because of it- and raised his eyebrow in question.

“C’mon, Bones. It’ll be fun. You and me cross-country. We can do it first thing when we get back, it shouldn’t take more than a week, and I know you’re looking forward to seeing your mom, so you could drop me in Atlanta or anywhere really, and go see her. At least you wouldn’t be taking a shuttle,” Jim had wheedled. He hadn’t known why it was so important to him that he spend some quality time with Bones, but it was. He needed it as much as anything.

“Would it matter if I said no?”

Jim had shaken his head. “No, not really.” He jumped off the desk, smiling as if he’d just been given command of the _Enterprise_ , and really that should’ve given him a clue right then, but it didn’t. Instead, he winked at his friend, saying, “Trust me, Bones, you’re gonna love it.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The look on Bones’ face when they arrived at the office to pick up the car Jim had rented- an actual car, a refurbished and upgraded, deep royal blue 1969 Mercury Cougar convertible- was priceless. Jim had to spend an inordinate amount of time going over all of the features and upgrades before the good doctor declared that it was probably not death on wheels.

The first two days passed quietly enough, both Jim and Bones enjoying the feel of the wind in their faces and the light sting of raindrops that tried to patter down from time to time, content to talk about nothing, listening to what Jim declared ‘road trip’ music, which was actually just fine with Bones- and if Jim noticed the way Bones’ lips moved along with the words, he just kept it to himself with a mental fist pump.

On the fourth day, farmland began to replace rocky foothills as they entered what had once been known as America’s Bread Basket.

Jim had gotten quieter and quieter as they drove through never-ending fields of corn and grain. He knew he’d reacted, but he’d thought he hid it well. This was supposed to be their vacation, more importantly, Bones’ vacation; Jim wanted to give Bones a chance to relax and just enjoy before going home and dealing with the memories Jim knew were still so raw. He knew Bones was excited to see his mom and spend the next three weeks with her, but he knew how it was to have truly good experiences tainted by memories of harsh, painful ones- he was reminded of that every year.

Unfortunately for Jim, he was on this little adventure with his best- over-observant- friend.

They were just outside the urban sprawl of St. Louis, when Bones finally told Jim to pull over. “Get out,” he’d instructed, sliding into the driver’s seat once Jim had vacated it. “Get in.”

“You know, Bones, if you wanted to drive all you had to do was ask.”

“Humph. The day you willingly give up control, pfft, doubt such a day even exists.”

Jim sat back and smiled at the barb; it felt good, comfortable. 

For the next hundred and fifty miles or so, they drove in silence, Bones eyeing the road, the scenery, and Jim; until finally he spoke up, “So are you gonna tell me or do I have to drag it out of you?”

“Hmm?” Jim answered distractedly.

Bones snickered and shook his head. “Somethin’s botherin’ you. Out with it.”

“It’s nothing, Bones.”

“Yeah, nothin'. Like that big ball of fire in the sky’s nothing,” he’d grumbled.

Jim hadn’t answered. There was nothing for him to answer. These farmlands were where his roots were, or should’ve been, and as much as he’d wanted to get out, get away, he’d always thought for good or ill these were the lands he’d call home. But they weren’t, if anything they made him feel ill, like his skin was too tight and the air too stagnant and the sun burned, not the gentle heat, but fiery lapping burns and he just wanted to get away fast.

“Jim? Jim?” Bones’ concerned voice had broken through and Jim realized he was gasping for air.

“Fine. I’m fine, Bones,” he’d said with a hand on his chest as he tried to force himself to take deep breaths.

“Sure, ‘fine’,” Bones muttered. “We’re gonna have a talk about the finer points of the English language one of these days.”

“Bones,” he was hard pressed to know if it was exasperation or resignation in his voice. He sighed coming to what was an inevitable decision- not like he could ever keep something from Bones for long. “I just don’t want to be here. I mean, I don’t mean.” He stopped for a breath, it wasn’t like him to get so flustered, especially with Bones. “I want to be here with you. I just don’t want to be _here_.” Jim huffed, realizing how ridiculous he sounded. The hand on his thigh surprised him.

“Jim, I know what it’s like to get blindsided by memories.” Bones gave him a small, sad, understanding smile. “You don’t have to explain more than that.”

Jim chuckled. Of course Bones would understand. Leaning his head back on the headrest, he closed his eyes and tried not to think. He’d dozed off like that with Bones’ hand gently resting on his thigh. 

\---

“C’mon, Sleeping Beauty, time to wake up,” Bones’ gravelly voice told him.

Jim groaned, turning his head towards the familiar voice. “Sleeping Beauty got a kiss to wake her up,” Jim pointed out, eyes resolutely closed.

Bones grunted. “I sure as Hell ain’t anybody’s Prince Charming.”

Jim’s eyes popped open at that. Jim hated, absolutely _hated_ that Bones felt that way about himself, when it was patently untrue. “You’d be mine,” he said- some defiant gut reaction.

Bones just snickered and opened the car door. “Get out here, before I pull you out.”

“All right, I’m getting, I’m getting. Anyone ever told you your bedside manner sucks?” he teased as he stood and stretched.

Bones let his arched eyebrow speak for him.

“Where are we?” Jim asked after taking in his surroundings. He noted the rocky soil and a small path that led off into a dense copse of trees.

“I want to show you somethin’,” was Bones’ cryptic reply.

Jim just shook his head and chuckled; it felt good to see this playful side of his friend. He only wished it came out more. “How long was I asleep?”

“A while.”

“Bones, it’s pitch black out; you must’ve been driving all night. Why did you let me sleep? Come to that, why didn’t we stop someplace?”

Bones stopped and folded his hands across his chest. “Jim, just shut up and come with me.”

“Yes, sir, Captain, sir,” he said with a snicker.

Shaking his head and rolling his eyes skyward, Bones turned his back and headed down the darkened path.

“Bones? Bones, hold up. I can barely see a thing.” As if to prove his point he slammed right into his friend’s chest.

“God, you’re loud,” he grumbled without any heat. He cocked his head to the right. “It’s this way.”

A few yards later they came out into a small clearing- a short cliff with three worn boulders that could’ve, and probably had been at some time, been used as seats. To Jim it looked remarkably like a ‘lover’s lane,’ though it was obviously no longer used as one.

“Sit,” Bones commanded, nodding at a wide boulder.

Once Jim was seated, Bones sat next to him. “The thing about memories, Jim, you can always make new ones.”

As if on cue, the air rent with the tingle of ozone and electricity as lightning strikes lit up the world around them.

Jim sat in awe as the lightning danced along the ground. Back in Iowa, he’d seen lightning dance before his eyes, but never in these playful white and blue stick figures that ran a gauntlet of emotions over reddened earth. In Iowa the lightning was stiff, solitary, unless it brought with it wind funnels; those, those he had seen dance and meld like lovers on the dirt landscape.

“Last time I was here was with Pam. Before we were married, when things were good.” He laid his hand on Jim’s shoulder and whispered, “New memories.”

Jim closed his eyes and wondered if he was understanding Bones right. If he was and if he accepted, it would change things. Then again, ‘new memories,’ maybe he was ready for a change. “Bones,” he whispered, quietly edging closer to him and sliding a hand passively around Bones’ lower thigh.

Jim felt it when Bones let out the breath he’d been holding then moved his hand to wrap his arm around Jim’s shoulders. They sat like that for an hour or more watching as dawn crept in, highlighting the scarred landscape.

“So,” Bones’ voice was rougher than usual and he stopped to clear his throat before continuing, “where do we go from here?”

Jim straightened; Bones’ arm sliding from his shoulders, but Jim just smiled, his ice blue eyes sparkling like sunlight playing on water. “Anywhere we want,” he said, leaning in for a kiss. It was soft and gentle, the kind of kiss Jim avoided and never even thought of initiating, but it felt right- a fragile kiss for a fragile beginning. He needed to let Bones know how seriously he took this.

It seemed to work, judging by the smile on Bones’ face when they pulled apart. Jim only had a moment to relish it before Bones was closing the meagre distance to capture his lips once again. His mouth demanded control, which Jim willingly surrendered. This was a kiss that spoke of declarations, of assurance, and of refusal to let go.

“Mm,” Bones virtually purred against Jim’s lips. “We should head back; this place can be brutal when the sun’s in full swing.”

“Whatever you say, Doctor,” Jim chuckled, earning him a patented McCoy eye-roll.

When they got back to the car, Jim checked the coordinates logged in the guidance system; he wanted to remember this place. “Christ, Bones, you had to have driven all night.”

Bones shrugged. “It was worth it,” he said simply as he slid into the passenger seat. Closing his eyes, he slouched down, letting his head loll onto the headrest, much as Jim had done hours ago.

“We can get a room here; get some rest before heading out. I was thinking we could head up the Old Blue Ridge Parkway.”

One eye opened with an accompanying arching eyebrow; Jim knew exactly what his friend was thinking and it earned Bones an eye-roll of his own.

“Nah,” Bones said, closing his eyes again, “wanna get outta here.”

“Too many memories?” Jim asked quietly.

That got Bones’ full attention; he sat up straighter and pulled Jim into a searing kiss. Panting, “No. I’d just rather not wake up to that view,” he said, indicating the mostly barren copper-coloured earth around him.

Jim laughed outright at that. He pulled up the map on the guidance system, tapped a couple keys, and gave himself a definitive nod. “I know just the place,” he smiled impishly. “Get some sleep. I’ll wake you up in a couple hours for a real bed.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.” Bones smirked as he settled back down in the seat and was out in a matter of minutes.

\---------

A little over three hours later, Jim was leaning over Bones gently shaking him awake.

Bones’ eyes popped open instantly- it was something Jim had almost envied at the Academy, Bones’ ability to be awake and fully alert virtually instantaneously, but in the years since being made Captain, Jim had developed a similar ability, though he doubted he could ever reach Bones’ level of skill.

“Where are we?” Bones’ voice, made more gravelly with sleep, asked.

“Cherokee, North Carolina. I thought it would be a good place to stop for the night.”

Bones looked up at the sky. “Jim, do I need to point out to you, of all people, that it’s still _morning_?”

Jim ignored him, grabbing their duffels from the back. “C’mon, our room’s this way.”

When Bones caught up to him, Jim was fiddling with an old fashioned doorknob.

“Keys, how rustic,” Bones commented dryly, peering over Jim’s shoulder, watching as he worked the latch with amusement.

It took Jim a moment to fit the key in the lock and get the door open. Once he wrestled it open, he extended his hand entreatingly. “Age before beauty.”

“No, women and children first, Jim.”

Jim smirked, but entered the room all the same. He tossed their bags on the nearest bed and flopped down on the other.

He heard a deep rumbling chuckle from the door and raised his head to look at Bones. “What?”

Bones merely chuckled again and came to sit across from Jim on the bed. “You’re impossible.”

“It’s part of my charm,” he smirked back. After a short moment his brow furrowed and he looked up at Bones. “But seriously, what did I do?”

“Nothin’.” He propped up on an elbow so he could hover over Jim’s face. “Jus’ you bein’ you,” his accent was getting thicker, and he caressed Jim’s cheek with his knuckles then closed the distance and kissed him.

Within minutes they were stretched out against each other, hands under shirts, kissing lazily.

“You know this isn’t why I stopped,” Jim breathed out between kisses.

“You complaining?” Bones asked, eyebrow incredulously raised.

Jim rolled his eyes and tugged on Bones’ hair to capture his lips in answer.

That night, after a day of kissing, sleeping, and eating, as they lay facing each other, Jim asked, “How long?”

Bones huffed. “Can’t remember not; though I don’t think I knew that’s what it was ‘til later. Still couldn’t tell you when that was.” He gave a small quirky smile. “You?”

Jim knew he must be blushing. “A month,” he admitted with a self-depreciating laugh.

Bones’ brow furrowed.

Tracing the furrow, gently smoothing it out, he continued, “It took a whole month before I knew I couldn’t live without you. I just didn’t know how to deal with it. You were just out of the divorce and you never seemed interested in anyone, let alone the guy who slept his way through half the Academy.”

“It wasn’t half,” Bones corrected, “a third, maybe.”

“You’re an ass, you know that?” Jim smiled as he chided.

“Oh, don’t act so surprised; not like we’ve just met.”

“No,” Jim agreed softly, moving in for a slow kiss. A yawn cut the kiss short.

“That’d be our cue to get some sleep.”

“It’s still early,” Jim countered.

“A bit. But if we sleep now, we can get started earlier.”

“Catch another sunrise.” Jim knew he was being a sap, but he couldn’t help it; he’d gone almost six years without this, he was going to enjoy it.

“If you want to.” Bones gave him a quick kiss. “Sleep. It’s been a long day.”

“Yes, Doctor,” Jim said through another yawn.

\---------

Jim woke up slowly with a leg wrapped around his and an arm slung across his chest. Next to him Bones was sleeping peacefully. Rolling onto his side trapping Bones’ leg between his own, Jim watched his friend- lover?- sleep. The hard lines around Bones’ mouth slackened and smoothed out during sleep still faintly there leaving Bones his classically chiseled look.

“Stop starin’,” Bones grumbled half-heartedly into his pillow.

Jim pretended to think about it. “I don’t think so; I like what I’m seeing too much.”

Bones groaned. “Shoulda known you’d be a sentimental bastard.”

Jim let out a small snort. “So says the man who drove all night to take me to see a lightning storm at dawn.”

“I’m from the South, it’s expected,” he countered, turning from his pillow to smile mischievously at Jim. “What time is it?”

“A little after 0800. Thought we could ‘rustle up some gr-uub’,” he said in a truly hideous fake Southern accent, “and head out.”

“Jim, you might be my best-friend and I might love you, but leave the accent to the Georgia boy.”

Rolling his eyes, Jim told him, “Fine. Fine. I’ll leave the sweet talk to you.”

“Good. Now that that’s settled, rustling up some grub,” Bones mimicked with a smooth roll of his tongue making the words sound sweet and not at all hick, “sounds like a fine idea.”

“Great.” Jim carefully untangled himself from Bones. “Dibs on the shower!” he called, half hoping Bones would follow him, but not expecting it. The bathroom, like everything else at the inn, was as Bones had called it ‘rustic.’ Old fashioned, circa twentieth century, it fit the mood of their trip perfectly. He’d only been in the shower a few minutes- fiddling with the knobs to get the temperature right proved a not insurmountable challenge- when he heard the door open and someone enter. Jim wasn’t going to push anything. He was happy to let Bones set the pace, for now. He heard the familiar sounds of someone going through their morning routine- brushing teeth, shaving… Jim had a fraction of a second before the toilet flushed and his shower abruptly went from comfortably warm to arctic levels of cold. He screamed, there was no two ways about it. “Jesus Christ, Bones!”

“Oops, guess I forgot,” he drawled without the slightest hint of remorse.

“You bastard. Just you wait. Revenge is sweet.”

“Not as sweet as hearing the great James T. Kirk scream. Now get a move on; some of us want breakfast before noon.”

Jim quickly finished his shower, grumbling about obstinate Southern doctors with passive-aggressive tendencies, then groaning at himself for how much it turned him on. Leaning his forehead against the antique piping, he silently wished for another shocking blast of freezing water.

\---

Breakfast turned out to be an event in itself. Bones, usually so staunch in his and, whenever possible, Jim’s eating habits, surrounded them with stacks of thick buttermilk pancakes, flaky biscuits with dollops of fresh butter melting in rivulets across them, sage and maple sausage patties, crisp bacon, and scrambled eggs with jars of strawberry and apricot preserves, bottles of maple syrup, and dark thick molasses covering their table. Bones’ eyes _glittered_. “Dig in.”

Hesitantly, Jim picked up the bottle of molasses and stared as the spoon slowly tilted and sank to the bottom- he was sure the entire process took a good five minutes.

“Jesus, Jim, it won’t bite. It’s just molasses for cryin’ out loud.”

“Should take some back to Scotty to use as sealant,” Jim noted as he pried the spoon free.

Rolling his eyes, Bones plucked the spoon from Jim’s hand with a muttered, “Infant,” and dribbled some of the rich cane syrup on the side of his plate. “Eat,” he insisted. “Doctor’s orders.”

Jim snorted. “I want this recorded for posterity. Leonard McCoy encouraging me to eat a greasy, rich, unhealthy breakfast.”

“Don’t push it, Jim,” Bones grumbled.

“Sorry,” he said, meaning it. “I’m just not used to this side of you.”

“Hmph, don’t get used to it.”

Jim smiled as he picked up a much more welcoming pot of warm maple syrup; he had a feeling he’d be seeing more of this Bones and not just on this shore leave.

\---------

The Great Smoky Mountains rolled in deep green curves to the west; to the north four hundred and sixty-nine miles of parkway traversed the Blue Ridge itself.

Jim was silently awed by the sight; for all his world-wise ways he’d never really made it out of the Midwest.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” Bones said quietly.

“It is,” Jim whispered.

“There should be a spot to pull over in a couple miles. Stop; we got time.”

Jim nodded and turned off at the small overlook.

Making sure the car was in park, Bones reached over and shut the engine off before climbing out. “You comin’ or you plannin’ on sittin’ there like a lump on a log?” he tossed over his shoulder in his gruff tones as he climbed up onto the shale rock wall providing a semblance of protection from the rocky slope on the other side.

Jim scrambled out of the car and up to sit next to Bones on the manmade ledge. Bones was looking out over the green landscape with a look of serenity that Jim seldom saw; that one look alone was worth the entire trip.

“You know, Jim, the view’s that way,” Bones said, waving a hand towards the tree-covered hills, never looking at Jim.

“Trust me, Bones; you don’t know what you’re missing.”

Bones snorted. “There ya go again.”

“What? After how many years of sneaking, of _ignoring_ , you really think I’m not going to admire you whenever I have the chance?”

Shaking his head, Bones muttered, “I’ve created a monster.”

Jim swung his long legs over the far side of the wall as he sidled up to Bones, thighs and shoulders pressing together. “Dr. Frankenstein,” he snickered, earning him a rumbling chuckle.

“We should probably get going,” Jim said after a while, not that he really wanted to go, but there was a lot of road and other places to stop and watch the scenery _and_ Bones.

“Yeah,” Bones drawled, stretching the word into three long syllables. “Pro’bly right.” He tore himself away from the view and the feel of Jim pressed next to him. “I’m drivin’.”

Jim just chuckled and tossed him the keys. He was far from arguing, Bones, like him, loved to drive and it showed. And if Bones was driving it meant Jim could indulge in his new favourite hobby- _openly_ ogling Bones.

The drive was peaceful; while sometimes it was nothing but rolling hills and mountaintops, other times they were surrounded by forest, thick trees on either side of them, branches reaching out to each other across the road, twining in and around themselves once they touched. Jim had the entirely too sappy- and not at all befitting James T. Kirk, Captain of the Federation’s Flagship- thought that he and Bones were like those trees, spending years reaching towards each other. He let out a derisive humph at his disturbingly romantic notions.

“What?” Bones asked.

“Nothing, man, just my mind wandering.”

Chuckling lightly, Bones smiled. “Yeah, this place does that.”

With a smirk Jim stretched out so that his head fell back against the seat and his booted feet, legs crossed at the ankles, rested on the doorframe, and settled in to watch the scenery and let his mind wander. He was busy watching the sky through the trees’ entwined branches and almost missed when Bones turned off the road. Jim turned to Bones in hopes of an explanation, but the good doctor was intently scanning the woods around them as if looking for something. Jim’s suspicion was confirmed moments later, when Bones let out a triumphant humph and pulled off to the side of the… ‘road’ would be generous, abandoned horse trail felt more accurate.

Without a word Bones got out of the car and headed into the woods.

Jim’s eyes quizzically followed Bones into the forest. Minutes passed and Bones didn’t re-emerge. Jim knew it was bordering on ridiculous to be worried about Bones of all people wandering around the Appalachias; still, knowing and _knowing_ were two drastically different things. He made it another six minutes, not that he was counting, before hopping out of the car and following the path of disturbed foliage left by his friend.

He stopped short when he reached Bones. Any snarky remark he might’ve made died before reaching his lips.

Bones was crouched down on the balls of his feet at the edge of a quietly babbling creek.

As Jim watched, words began floating, broken and sporadic, to his ears; “should’ve” “didn’t know” “deserve” “fucked up” and “Jim” filtered to him. It didn’t take a genius to know who Bones was talking to. As quietly as possible with the dry undergrowth, Jim sat down behind Bones, one leg bent close, the other stretched out by Bones’ side.

Jim didn’t say a word, but Bones automatically moved from his crouch to set between Jim’s legs.

Jim let his arms fall loosely at Bones’ waist, just a comforting touch. “He used to bring you here,” Jim said as if he was stating the obvious.

“Yeah,” Bones sighed, looking out over the small stream. “I hadn’t thought about this place in years. Saw the turnoff and I had to.”

“Bones, remember what you said about not needing to explain?” he asked, brushing a kiss to Bones’ temple. “It goes both ways.”

Bones huffed, but laid a hand over one of Jim’s.

Smiling, Jim laced their fingers together. “This place is beautiful.”

“Mmm. When my first girlfriend and I broke up, Dad brought me up here. Told me all those things parents are supposed to tell their kids. We stayed up here for three days. By the time we left, well, the world seemed brighter. I remember we were all packed up, ready to leave, and he told me this place was as much mine as his now and when I found someone to share it with to hold on tight.” With those last words he squeezed Jim’s hand.

Jim sat happily, Bones half resting against him, until the humid southern air gave way to the chill of night in the mountains. He nuzzled into Bones’ neck, tightening his loose hold on his lover.

Bones turned his head, silently encouraging their foreheads to touch. “Jim,” he all but breathed.

“I know,” Jim answered. He didn’t need the words; he’d known Bones too long not to understand the things he didn’t say or do just as well as the things he did.

Bones gave Jim’s hand another hard squeeze then moved to stand. “C’mon, kid, let’s get back on the road ‘fore you catch your death. Just my luck to have you go off and die of pneumonia on me.”

“Bones,” he took the hand the older man offered, “don’t ever change.”

Bones grunted. “Lynchburg’s a couple hours away, thought we could stop there and head back down the coast tomorrow.”

Jim nodded. As Bones turned to walk away, Jim tugged on his wrist, pulling him back so he could kiss him. 

“Mmm, that’s better; should hold me until we get to Lynchburg.”

Bones chuckled. “Brat.”

*********

On the American West Coast the coastal roads were often high stretches that ran along rocky cliff faces towering over the blue-grey waters and beaches ranging from white sand to rocky granite. Here on the Eastern Seaboard the beachfront roads were just that. Pale sand that rolled in shallow dunes on either side of the roadways, giving the air a sharp sting as cars and transports roared past stirring up the sand in their wake.

Jim had taken the wheel when they left Lynchburg that morning and they were now well on their way back south towards Savannah. The sun was out, bright above them in the heat of the day, balanced against the smell of the ocean air as cool as the gentle waves it came from.

Next to him, Bones was sprawled- there was no other word for it- across the seat, jeans threadbare and soft, loose-fitting shirt opened just enough to billow in the wind, head tilted back to catch the sun, dark sunglasses that almost matched the black of his hair protecting his eyes.

Jim split his attention between the road and trying not to drool on himself whenever Bones swallowed. Right then, Jim was certain Bones looked more like some perfectly sculpted Adonis than one of the best and most touted doctors in all of Starfleet.

“Eyes on the road, Jim.” Bones’ words coloured with more amusement than admonishment.

“If you weren’t constantly distracting me,” Jim countered.

Raising his head, Bones turned to look at Jim over the top of his sunglasses with a huff. A moment later, his head was once again thrown back soaking up the sun, while the fingers of his left hand sought out the fabric of Jim’s shirt and shoulder beneath it, gently stroking. “Now, pay attention or I’ll take the wheel sooner rather than later.”

“Not helping,” Jim told him, darting an off-centre kiss to Bones’ teasing fingers.

“Mmm,” was Bones’ only reply.

Jim lasted almost an hour under Bones’ ‘innocent’ onslaught before he all but _wrenched_ the car onto a semi-deserted access road. Throwing the car into park with a growl, he turned in his seat to nip and bite at Bones’ fingers. “You,” he said between nips, “are a horrible tease.”

Bones huffed a bitten off chuckle.

In one smooth motion, Jim was straddling Bones’ lap, rolling his hips wantonly. “You,” he repeated into a kiss. “…are…” He pulled back just far enough to give sharp bites to Bones’ lips. “…a _horrible_ …,” he growled. “…tease!” He finished, giving in to a searing kiss.

Hands gripped Jim’s hips as Bones arched up against him. Jim didn’t think he’d ever felt something this good, a feeling that thoroughly deserved the deep moan that escaped through their kisses.

“Jim,” Bones growled, “our first time is _not_ gonna be in a Goddamn car- no matter how Classic or iconic you think it is!”

Jim smirked, continuing to place insistent kisses along Bones’ jaw. “Lots of firsts to be had.”

Grunting, Bones replied, “Yeah, well, this first is gonna be in a bed. At least, a room!” even as his hands moved to squeeze Jim’s ass as he pushed his hips up towards Jim’s.

Nosing at the tender skin behind Bones’ ear, Jim murmured, “Nothing wrong with a good frot.”

“’cept the mess in our jeans,” Bones countered, thrusting against him again.

“We have more clothes in our bags,” Jim answered, tugging gently on Bones’ ear.

With a rumbling growl Bones wrapped an arm around Jim’s waist; his other hand reaching up to grab Jim’s neck, urging their mouths together. “You’re a brat and the last thing I should be doing is encouragin’ you.”

“No,” Jim said between kisses, “the last thing you should be doing is talking so much. Shut up- that’s an order.”

Bones chuckled into the kiss, but obediently let his mouth be occupied with sweeter things than words.

\---

Tybee was a small resort island outside of Savannah. For hundreds of years it had drawn tourists and visitors, many of whom set down roots on the island. Driving onto the island was like entering another era- the hotels, motels, inns, and houses ran the gambit of Colonial, Antebellum, and Postbellum up to mid twenty-first-century Americana. Bones directed the car easily towards the southeastern end of the island. A century ago the U.S. National Park Service had taken purview over the island, halting any intrusive development and rebuilding the more historic portions. Today the area was dotted with lazy inns, cottages, restaurants, and meandering boardwalks that connected them all. Bones pulled into one of the sprawling inns proclaiming ‘Vacancy.’

Jim hopped out of the car, not bothering with pesky things like doors. “I’ll get us checked in,” he called over his shoulder. Behind him he heard Bones chortle and could just see the indulgent look on his face as he shook his head- the image never failed to make Jim smile.

The lobby of the reception building was quintessential for the area; a mix of old and modern with an ample garnishing of Southern comfort. “Hey,” Jim offered the woman behind the desk his best James T. Kirk smile, adding a flirtatious wink when her cheeks flushed a warm pink, “was hoping to check-in.”

“Of course, sir. Ah, number of occupants?”

Jim had to resist the urge to put a hand on her shoulder and tell her to calm down, but somehow he doubted it would help. “Two.”

The girl took a deep breath before continuing. “Two singles or a double?”

“Double, please.”

She looked over her screen and chewed her lip. “I’m sorry, sir, our only available double is reserved. We have a two bed double,” she added hopefully.

“Don’t mind him, darlin’,” Bones’ smooth timbre rolled like fresh honey as he stepped between Jim and the reception desk. “Reservation. Dr. Leonard McCoy.”

“Of course, sir,” she chirped. “Number nine, corner unit as you requested.”

“Thank you, darlin’,” he purred, taking their access cards.

“If you need anything-” she stopped mid-sentence when Bones gave her a smile and a wink.

“C’mon, kid.”

Jim stared at Bones as they returned to the car to drive the short distance to their apartment. Once they were seated, Jim couldn’t hold back any longer, “Who are you and what have you done with my Bones?”

The man in question laughed heartily, then leaned across the seat and kissed him.

Sighing contently, Jim smirked. “I guess I shouldn’t get used to this kinder, gentler Bones.”

Bones snorted.

“That’s what I thought.”

As they pulled out of the parking lot, Bones laid a proprietary hand on Jim’s thigh. Jim would never admit it, but it was one of the most intimate and sensual touches he’d ever felt. There was just something about seeing Bones like this- knowing Bones was _letting_ him see it. Sure he’d gotten glimpses of it before, but that was like seeing a shooting star, whereas this was witnessing a full on meteor shower.

Number nine turned out to be on the far side of the second block of apartments designed to match the image of ‘historical’ Tybee. Inside, it was warm and welcoming, the air regulator leaving the rooms cool and fresh; Jim opened the door onto a wide den area with a large steel grey sofa with shots of dark almost royal blue running through it, a matching love seat and recliner, and an old-style rocking chair with matching cushions, and plush sea grey carpet covering the suite’s floors. Dropping his bag by the sofa, Jim explored the rest of what would be their home for the next three days. The kitchenette and bathroom were coloured in the same calming tones. The bedroom. The bedroom was downright opulent with its burnished oak dressers and matching nightstands. Two wrought iron sconces bracketed the bed, blanketing it in soft faux candlelight. The bed itself was covered in more of that same steel grey; the fluffy comforter and mounds of pillows combined with the ambient lighting to give Jim the feeling he was looking at rolling storm clouds. With a wicked grin he threw himself onto the bed, wallowing in the billowy embrace. “Bones, get in here! This is incredible.”

When Bones finally sauntered into the bedroom, he let out a loud bark of laughter. Jim was flopped out on the bed rolling around like a cat, rubbing his entire body against the covers. “I don’t know if you’re a child or a cat,” he snarked indulgently. 

“Reow,” Jim replied, rubbing his face against a puffy pillow that fell from the pile at the head of the bed.

Bones muttered something that might’ve been “infant” before he landed on top of Jim, pinning him to the bed.

Jim’s eyes twinkled as he looked into Bones’ green-hazel eyes as he surged up for a kiss.

Hands worked under shirts, settling on hips and the small of a back. Bones’ hands ran up and down Jim’s sides, lightly playing over his ribs and stroking his hips, while Jim’s hands pressed against his back, giving an extra boost to the friction they both needed, slipping under the waistband of his jeans and brushing the cleft of Bones’ ass.

“You know, we’re on a bed now,” Jim pointed out when Bones let their mouths momentarily separate.

Bones let out a huffed chuckle and smirked. “That we are, darlin’.”

Raising his hand to brush repeatedly through Bones’ dark hair, Jim sobered. “I never wanted our first time to be in a car.”

The lines of Bones’ face and the natural tension in his body seemed to soften further and he rubbed their temples together. “I know,” he whispered. Suddenly, like the flip of a switch, Bones was pushing himself up and away from Jim. “I also know I have a day’s worth of road grit on me- so do you- and I’d like to get it off.” With that he crawled off of Jim and stood.

Jim watched Bones head towards the bathroom, shedding his clothes teasingly as he went. He thumped back on the bed with a huff so loud he almost missed Bones’ next words.

“Are you comin’?”

Jim was up and tearing at his clothes in an instant.

\---------

Jim leaned against the light railing surrounding the hardwood patio that ran along the length of their apartment, looking out at the beach- its pale sands soaking up the reds and purples of the, frankly spectacular, sunset. The waves were a darker blue in the fading light, their crests reflecting and refracting the colours of the sunset.

Strong arms came to wrap around him and he ran his hands over increasingly familiar skin.

“It’s better than I remembered,” Bones told him.

Jim smiled one of his quirky smiles, turning his head to look at Bones. “New memories?” he said simply.

Bones laughed and kissed him.

They stood there for a minute, watching each other, until Bones broke the silence. “Let’s go for a walk.”

“A walk?”

“Yes, Jim, a walk. I know you’re familiar with the concept of walking- you got out here.”

“Funny, Bones,” Jim said sarcastically.

Smirking, Bones held out a hand as he made for the path leading to the boardwalk.

Jim automatically took Bones’ hand. “What, no lectures about shoes and all the horrible things in the sand and water?”

Bones stopped and glowered at Jim, “It’s a beach, Jim, not some kid’s science project.” He continued walking. “Besides, you don’t walk along the beach in shoes- it’s a sacrilege.”

Being tugged along behind, Bones, Jim let out a full body laugh and abruptly pulled a shocked Bones to him, kissing him soundly, his laugh never fully dissipating. He loved Bones, he truly did, and this new turn in their relationship, the touching, kissing, smiling, _laughing_ was starting to fully hit him. Maybe he was starting to get a little manic, but, Hell, he deserved to be. He slid his arms around Bones’ neck, resting his head on his shoulder when they broke apart.

“Jim?” Bones asked, holding him close. “What’s wrong, darlin’?”

There was that word again; Jim marveled how a word could sound so different when Bones said it to him then when he was simply reverting to his ingrained Southern charm. It made him feel important, powerful. “Nothing.” He smiled against Bones’ skin. “Nothing at all.” He felt Bones relax, almost as if he understood what Jim was going through and thinking. Of course, this was Bones, his Bones, so maybe he did.

Kissing Jim’s hair, the short blond strands tickling his cheek as he turned, “We’ve got three days,” he purred. “Did you want to stay in tonight?”

“Hell, no,” Jim declared. Softer, he admitted, “I just needed a minute.”

Bones chuckled. “Kinda hits you all at once,” he said knowingly.

“Could’ve warned me,” Jim accused with a snicker.

“Oh, yeah, tell the Great James T. Kirk anything about love,” he answered gruffly, without any malice.

Jim pulled back with a huff. “Are we going?”

Bones squeezed Jim’s hand. “Waitin’ on you, darlin’.”

They walked along the boardwalk, away from the last vestiges of buildings and people- the boardwalk continuing several hundred yards further down the beach. The sun had fully set, succumbing to the stars Jim loved so much, by the time they reached the end of the ‘walk. By mutual, unspoken agreement they sat on the edge of the wooden walk, bare feet dangling in the sand.

Bones leaned back on his elbows, looking up into constellations that had barely changed in eons.

Surprisingly, Jim’s attention was trained, not on the skies, but on the dark, heaving waters. He felt fingers lightly brush his forearm and quick reflexes caught them before they could move away. Looking back at Bones, he smiled, squeezing his hand, a hand he continued to hold when he returned his attention to the sea.

Sitting fully, Bones followed Jim’s gaze out past the sand and waves. “Come on,” he said, sliding off their perch and onto the sand- still holding enough heat from the sun to be warm against his feet. Bones didn’t stop until they were at the water’s edge, just far enough out for the incoming waves to caress their ankles, the chill waters an exhilarating contrast to the sun-warmed sand.

Jim gave Bones a quizzical look, one he knew was nowhere near as demanding without Bones’ arching eyebrow backing it up. Still, it got him an answer.

“I loved it out here when I was a kid.”

“Is there anywhere you weren’t when you were a kid?’

That earned Jim one of Bones’ special ‘glares of death,’ which would have been much more effective if Jim wasn’t getting lost in the shimmer in Bones’ eyes. In the moonlight they danced with amber sparks and the sharp stab of green pinpricks. Jim vaguely registered Bones talking to him and he forced himself to close his eyes and refocus. He was about to ask Bones what he’d said when he was summarily drenched in cold salt water.

“Maybe now you’ll pay attention,” Bones informed him as he wrung out the shirt he’d used as an impromptu waterskin.

Jim sputtered and spit out the water that fell into his open mouth. His eyes narrowed. “Oh, really.” His smile twitched up, positively radiating evil, and before Bones could do more than raise his arm protectively, Jim had sent a huge splash of water at him in retaliation.

Bones raised eyebrow silently screamed murder in contrast to the laughter in his voice. “That’s how you wanna play it?” he asked, prowling towards Jim.

Jim began to backpedal. “Bones? Bones?” he most definitely didn’t squeak. “Bones, think about what you’re doing.”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head ‘bout what I’m thinkin’.”

As the next big wave came in, Jim found himself wrapped in a pair of strong arms as Bones sent them both tumbling into the water. They broke the surface simultaneously, shaking their heads like a couple of wet dogs, spraying each other with as much water as they shook off. Laughter mixed heavily with the roll and splash of the ocean.

Jim wiped a hand down his face to remove some of the water dripping into eyes, keeping him from seeing clearly. And he was never more glad to see something. Bones’ whole body was quaking with laughter, his hair fighting between sticking up wildly and being plastered to his face, his bare chest almost too tempting to resist. Hungrily, he traced a bead of water that fell from Bones’ shoulder down to hang off a pert nipple like morning dew clinging to a flower petal. Licking his lips, Jim had to taste, touch.

Above him the full laughter morphed into a heavy moan when Jim gently caught the salty drop on his tongue, barely brushing the taut flesh. Jim hummed, nipping the nub playfully. “If you don’t want sand in unpleasant places, we should get back,” he growled rolling his forehead across Bones’ chest, panting against the damp skin.

Chuckling, Bones pulled Jim up to meet him. “Hate to break it to you, kid, but I think we already ‘complished that.”

Giving Bones a matching chuckle, Jim amended his statement, “Fine, before we get any _more_ sand in unpleasant places.”

“Mmm,” Bones agreed. “Getting a bit chilly.”

Jim scoffed, “Maybe you shouldn’t have used your shirt to dump water on me.”

“Maybe I should dunk your ass again.” Bones’ eyebrow arched in a way that spoke volumes about his intent and resolve when Jim snickered.

“Bones?” He barely dodged the older man’s grasp when he lunged for him. “Bones. This is how it started the first time.”

“Hmph. Nana McCoy always said history repeats itself.”

“Not sure this is what she meant, Bones.”

His eyebrow rose curiously, “How would you know?”

“Just a hunch,” he answered, jumping out of Bones reach once again. With a taunting smirk, Jim took off down the beach back towards their apartment. He heard Bones huff behind him, followed by a bark of laughter that Jim was certain accompanied an indulgent head shake.

They chased each other along the beach, laughing and splashing each other like kids.

Jim bent over, bracing his hands on his knees while he panted and tried to catch his breath- the mixture of running and laughing winding him faster than any normal run would have. He’d barely gotten one decent breath when he was bowled over by the weight of a breathless, bare-chested, Southern country doctor.

“Gotcha.”

Squirming until he was facing Bones, Jim smirked asking, “Got me, but what’re you gonna do with me?”

The eyebrow of incredulousness quirked up and Bones’ eyes flashed with hunger as he spoke softly into Jim’s ear, accent thick and sweet. “I’m gonna take you home, push you down on that big bed, kiss every inch of you until the great Jim Kirk is a pliant, mewling mess, begging to be touched by _me_." He punctuated his words with a nip to Jim’s ear. “Then I’m gonna make love to you slowly, might make it last all night.”

Jim moaned, rolling his hips up into Bones, letting the evidence of his words’ effect press insistently against him. He felt Bones grin against his ear.

“But first,” Bones said, climbing off Jim and offering him a hand up, “a shower.”

“You are an evil man.”

Bones just winked and gave him an evil grin.

\---

“You don’t make this easy,” Bones chided as he lathered up Jim’s hair.

“Mmm. It’s your fault,” Jim cheerfully informed him, squeezing Bones’ ass again.

“Infant. Stay still or you’ll get soap in your eyes.” Bones moved Jim under the shower’s spray to rinse his hair.

Jim tilted his head back under the water, jumping when Bones took advantage of his stretched neck and bit him none too gently. “Hey! What happened to staying still?”

“I said _you_ needed to stay still,” he explained remorselessly as his fingers worked suds and soap out of Jim’s hair.

“Evil.”

“You love it.”

Jim let out a half chuckle. “I _love_ you.”

Bones gently slicked Jim’s hair back one last time and waited for Jim to look at him. “I love you, too, sweet’art.” Giving Jim a quick, teasing kiss, he smacked his ass telling him, “Now, get, so I can get cleaned up.”

“Hmph. I wanted to return the favour,” Jim purred.

“Next time. I promise. Tonight I wanna get you in that bed and if I let you stay we’re never getting’ there.”

“Good point.” Jim stepped out of the shower, drying off with a fluffy towel. “Just don’t take too long; don’t want me starting without you.”

Bones grunted. “Get.”

“Bones.” Jim waited for him to stick his head out of the shower. “I meant it,” he said seriously.

Smiling softly, Bones simply answered, “I know.”

Nodding once, Jim left Bones to his shower.

\---

Jim stretched out on the bed, lounging like a cat; his pose one of relaxed certainty. He positioned himself so that he was facing the bathroom door waiting for Bones to emerge. He closed his eyes, imagining Bones coming out in a cloud of steam and nothing else, stalking towards the bed and Jim, ready to push him down and do all those things he’d promised on the beach. He let out a tiny moan at the thought.

“You al’right there, darlin’?” Bones rumbled from a few feet away.

“I’d be better if you’d get your ass over here.”

“Patience, Jim, good things come to those who wait.”

“Isn’t five years enough waiting?”

With a soft snicker Bones drawled, “Then five minutes aren’t gonna kill you.”

Jim flopped back on the bed, watching upside down as Bones rummaged through his bag. Jim was slightly mollified when he realized what Bones was looking for- the sight of a naked Bones bending over his bag helped, too. He rolled back onto his stomach when Bones made a little sound of triumph and straightened. The reality of Bones stalking predatorily towards him was so much better than Jim’s imagination. Bones had the sleek grace of a hunter, confident and intent. Jim couldn’t tear his eyes from him; he was captured, held fast by deep green eyes made all the darker by wide-blown pupils.

On instinct, Jim began to crawl backwards on the bed as Bones approached until he was on his ass leaning back on his elbows.

Bones followed Jim’s movements, climbing on the bed and up until he covered Jim’s body.

As they lay there, face to face, Jim silently gave thanks to every deity he knew, including a couple he thought he had just invented, that Bones was here with him like this after so long and so many close calls. He pushed those thoughts away and cupped Bones’ face. They shared a smile and Bones kissed Jim’s palm, their noses bumping playfully before their mouths met for a slow, languid kiss.

Bones’ hands smoothed up Jim’s flanks, muscles rippling at the gentle touch. He pulled back from the mind-melting kiss, examining Jim. “Where to start?” he purred. “Here?” he asked, running a finger down Jim’s neck and along the inside of his collarbone. “Here?” He trailed those exquisite surgeon’s fingers over Jim’s breast bone. Then Bones took Jim’s hand, turning the underside of his wrist to his lips. “Or here?”

“Bones,” Jim whispered.

“Don’t interrupt,” Bones chided, continuing to kiss along the underside of Jim’s arm.

When Bones reached Jim’s shoulders, Jim ran his fingers into Bones’ hair- not sure if he was attempting to guide or simply hang on for the ride. Bones could be so single-minded at times and all the stars in the universe couldn’t dissuade or distract him. The part of Jim’s brain still capable of higher function screamed at him in vivid Technicolor complete with colourful metaphors and diagrams that this was one of those times.

With a sharp nip to the base of Jim’s neck, Bones growled, “Stop thinkin’ so loud,” then moved his way over Jim’s chest, doing his best to make him stop thinking. His tongue circled teasingly around the tightening nub of Jim’s nipple before taking it between his teeth and tugging, causing the hand in his hair to grip harder. Bones hummed appreciatively. Gentle open-mouthed kisses paved Bones’ way to Jim’s other nipple to receive its own attention.

True to his word, Bones mapped Jim’s body with kisses- tender along his ribs, almost teasing, harder over hips, making Jim jump and whimper, down to thighs that quaked and quivered before Bones even touched them.

Hands that could no longer reach soft dark hair fisted in the sheets as a litany of ‘Bones, Bones, Bones’ interspersed with choked off moans and ‘Please’ rained down on Bones’ ears. Smiling, Bones nuzzled against Jim’s knee, then bit the corded muscle just underneath.

Jim made a noise- equal parts moan and whimper.

Easing back up Jim’s body, Bones sucked a deep bruise into his neck as Jim let out more of those soft mewls.

“Bones,” Jim called plaintively, grabbing onto Bones’ arms when he appeared to be pulling away.

“Shh, not goin’ anywhere, sweet’art.”

Jim relaxed his grip on Bones’ arms, a spark of shame flaring at his neediness.

“Stop that,” Bones murmured as he stroked a thumb lovingly under eyes Jim hadn’t realized he’d closed. “I need you, too. Think I always have.”

“How?”

Bones gave him an incredulous look.

Jim should’ve known, of course Bones understood; there was no one, absolutely no one, who knew more about the workings of James T. Kirk than Leonard McCoy. He thread his fingers through Bones’ hair and pulled him down for a kiss, letting his need and desire flow uninhibited. This was Bones- he didn’t need to hide or hold anything back- he didn’t want to.

Breathlessly, Bones rolled off Jim onto his side, one leg looped over Jim’s. Reaching over Jim to pick up the tube he’d left there, he deftly opened it and squeezed some of the slick substance over his fingers.

Just as he had with everything else that night, Bones took his time preparing Jim. Teasing the sensitive spot behind his balls until Jim was begging, demanding, and cursing simultaneously. Only then did he slip his hand lower to circle the throbbing ring of muscle.

“Please, Bones,” Jim panted.

“Please what, darlin’?” Bones asked, torturously dipping the tip of his finger inside Jim’s hole.

Jim’s “God, yes” melded with incoherent moans scattered with ragged ‘oh’s and ‘ah’s and small cut-off cries that may have been Bones’ name as Bones worked into him, stroking and stretching.

A second finger joined the first- a delicious pressure Jim wanted to fall into and never leave.

“God, Jim,” Bones murmured, placing soft kisses over Jim’s chest and shoulder. Carefully, he added a third finger; on his second stroke he curled his fingers just enough to brush Jim’s prostate.

“Oh, God!” Jim’s nerves sizzled with electricity. “Bones… don’t, I’ll come,” Jim panted, surprised he was that coherent.

Bones immediately stopped his movements, letting his fingers simply rest inside his lover. “When you come, it will be with me buried so deep inside you that you won’t know which of us is coming,” Bones promised so confidently and sensually, Jim had no choice but to believe it. Slowly, Bones began to move his fingers, careful to avoid the delicate bundle of nerves.

“Bones, _please_.”

Bones’ chuckled a little breathlessly. “But you beg so beautifully. I could get used to it.”

“Please… please… please…,” Jim chanted softly, more than willing to appease Bones if it meant an end to the heavenly torture.

Removing his fingers, Bones slicked himself up and rolled back over Jim’s body. Before he’d even gotten situated, Jim’s long legs came up and wrapped around Bones’ waist. “Easy, sweet’art,” Bones soothed.

Jim took a deep, if shaky, breath, pushing the unaccustomed neediness away- he could analyze that later- right now, he had Bones between his legs and Bones’ fingers running softly through his short hair.

Bones dropped a chaste kiss on Jim’s lips as he reached down to line himself up. Pulling back, he caught Jim’s deep lapis eyes before pushing into him.

The sounds that fell from Jim’s mouth were unmistakable- pure pleasure. His legs tightened around Bones’ waist, pulling him closer.

“Damn-it, Jim,” Bones whispered. “So-”

“Perfect,” Jim finished.

Lowering his head to rest in the crook of Jim’s neck, “Yeah,” Bones breathed out slowly. His hips rolled experimentally against Jim. He pulled out the slightest amount, trailing kisses up Jim’s neck and jawline to steal his kiss-swollen lips in a sensual embrace as he rocked back into Jim.

They moved like that, Bones making small rolling, rocking circuits, never leaving Jim very empty and never for very long.

The torturous pace was driving Jim insane. He was used to fast fucks, his partners reaching for release; not that he was a stranger to slow and sensual, simply that he was never on the receiving end of that attention. This was new; maddening and wonderful. That not-so-quiet needy part of him practically cooed in ecstasy. “Bones,” he moaned. “More.”

Bones growled at the words, pulling back to manhandle Jim’s body. He never left Jim’s warm heat as he turned Jim onto his side, straddling one leg, the other stretched across Bones’ chest.

Jim let out a grunting moan as the position allowed Bones to slide in just that much deeper. He scrabbled ineffectually at Bones’ leg, looking for anything to ground himself on. He was tumbling in a freefall of sensation and emotion, desperate for something to regain his balance. Jim reached for his leaking cock, only to have his hand intercepted and brought to waiting lips; kisses that may have been words danced across his palm, while Bones’ free hand wrapped around Jim’s cock, stroking in matching rhythm to his trusts.

The kisses to Jim’s hand became sloppier, more primal as Bones’ thrusts sped up. Jim’s body was thrumming, wave after wave of electricity shooting through him with every roll and thrust of Bones’ hips. 

Somewhere through his haze of pleasure Jim made out the words being whispered against his palm- his name, “Jim,” repeated over and over like a sacrament. Jim’s muscles clamped down as he all but screamed Bones’ name- the world exploding white before him, shattering and rebuilding it simultaneously- coming thickly in Bones’ hand while Bones pulsed inside him.

Jim felt himself being jostled, something warm and soft being wiped between his legs and over his chest. He opened heavy-lidded eyes to see Bones smiling softly at him.

“Go back to sleep, Jim. I got this taken care of,” Bones spoke in soft rumbling tones, like a velvet thunder cloud. After a few more swipes with the cloth, Bones chucked it towards the bathroom and slid down to wrap around Jim and join in a wonderfully sated sleep.

\---------

“Bones,” Jim whined from under a pillow, “come back to bed.”

“We’ve barely left the bed in thirty-six hours.”

“Your point?” Jim asked, lifting his head from under the pillow he was using to block out the sun.

“My point,” Bones began, sitting on the edge of the bed, smoothing out Jim’s bedhead, “is that we want to get to Atlanta before dark and I’d like to see more than these four walls before we go.” He leaned down and kissed his lover. “Besides, somethin’ tells me we’re gonna need extra time to clean up after.”

Jim perked up.

“Thought that would get your attention, damn nymphomaniac.”

Jim seemed to think about that for a moment then grabbed Bones pulling him down on the bed and crawling on top of him. “Maybe, but I’m your nymphomaniac.”

Something that might have been an amused grunt was swallowed by Jim’s lips on Bones’.

“Mmm,” Jim purred. “Needed that.” Licking his lips, Jim sat up, climbed off the bed, and headed for the bathroom.

Groaning, Bones thumped his head against the pillows. “Now, who’s bein’ an evil tease?” he grumbled.

Jim’s melodic laughter was his only answer.

\---

“What is this place?” Jim asked as they approached the tall lighthouse.

“Tybee Island Lighthouse,” Bones said with a hint of fond exasperation, tapping the large faux-wooden sign that proclaimed just that.

Jim huffed. “I can read, Bones. Why are we here?”

Ignoring him, Bones walked into the lobby of the historic building. As soon as they entered a smooth female voice began its narration of the lighthouse’s history. Bones walked directly to the welcome desk, exchanging a few words with the white-haired, motherly looking woman there. He was smiling when he returned to Jim. Taking his hand, Bones led Jim over to a small doorway. “Hope you’re up for a bit of a climb.”

In front of Jim was a thin, winding, wrought-iron staircase that spiraled presumably up to the beacon level of the lighthouse. Jim’s expression turned from skeptical to giddy as he jumped up the first few steps. Turning, he called, “Coming?”

Bones giggled, outright giggled, and joined Jim on the staircase. “Move it, slow poke. Some of us wanna make it to the top before we reach retirement age.”

“Tell me the truth, Bones, we’re just doing this so you can stare at my ass.”

“Pfft, I don’t need an excuse to do that anymore,” he scoffed.

“Bones. Have you been ogling my ass all these years?” Jim teased, knowing he’d spent plenty of time ogling Bones’ everything.

“Like you haven’t.”

“I’m not _that_ much of a narcissist,” Jim countered, deliberately misconstruing Bones’ words.

Bones rolled his eyes, letting the point rest.

As they neared the top, Bones instructed, “Go to your left.” He heard Jim suck in a breath as he turned out onto the beacon floor. Bones came up behind him and wrapped his arms around Jim, chin resting on his shoulder.

Jim leaned back into the embrace, staring out over the churning waters. The sun played over the surface making tiny diamonds blanket the ocean as far as he could see.

“Thought you’d like it.”

“It’s beautiful, Bones.” He continued to stare out at the view for long minutes before he registered the lack of other visitors. Brow furrowing slightly, he asked, “Why aren’t there more people here?”

“It might happen to be their lunch hour,” he admitted.

Jim turned a beaming smile at him- Bones had arranged this just for them. “Do you take all your conquests up here?” he half teased.

Bones didn’t answer directly, just kissed his neck and whispered, “New memories.”

It was answer enough.

\---------

Miraculously, they managed to get back on the road only an hour later than they had planned and soon they were nearing the outskirts of the far-reaching Atlanta suburbs- the rolling fields of grass dotted with cattle, horses, and sheep becoming fewer as clusters of houses took their place.

“You can drop me at Peachtree,” Jim said as nonchalantly as he could muster. He knew the plan had been for Bones to go on without him, but that was then. But Jim wasn’t going to invite himself along, no matter how much he wanted it.

“What’re you talkin’ about?” Bones asked, giving him a look that clearly questioned his sanity.

“You were going to drop me off before you went to your mom’s.”

Bones pulled the car over abruptly. “Damn-it, Jim, do you really think I’d do that? You were comin’ whether you wanted to or not before; there’s no way in Hell you’re getting’ out of it _now_.” He leaned over, halfway into Jim’s seat, giving him a fierce demanding kiss to accentuate his point. He exhaled softly, wrapping a hand around the back of Jim’s neck and pressing their foreheads together. “Get it through that fool head of yours- I love you, I’m not ashamed of you, you are comin’ home with me, meetin’ Mamma, sleepin’ in my bed, and knowin’ you, convincin’ me to have sex in every inappropriate place you can find. End of discussion.”

Jim swallowed hard, forcing out a gruff, “Okay.”

“Glad that’s settled.” Bones sat back in the driver’s seat, taking Jim’s hand and placing it on his thigh before pulling out onto the road again.

Jim’s mind was reeling and he wasn’t even sure why. He knew Bones loved him, hadn’t doubted, but he’d been so emphatic in his words. His eyes travelled to his hand on Bones’ thigh and he squeezed softly. He felt Bones turn and knew he was smiling at him. A moment later Bones’ hand came to cover his and Jim realized Bones needed the reassurance as much as he did. With another, more confident, squeeze, Jim relaxed into the seat and simply enjoyed the feelings and the ride around the outskirts of Atlanta.

Marietta itself had long ago succumbed to the huge metropolis that was Atlanta, even though it was a good twenty miles outside its city limits. Yet somehow, just a few miles away from Marietta, there was countryside, small family farms and large plots of green grass peppered with trees- oaks, pines, maples, and low hanging willows. Bones turned onto a long graveled drive leading to a stately Victorian-style house.

As the house came into proper view Jim took in the beautiful simplicity of it. It was a two story Antebellum house with a large bow window on one side, sticking out over a colourful bed of pink and purple geraniums that ran the length of the house. There were large paned windows, both up and downstairs, and small round rose windows along the attic. Outside the attic, running around the whole house, was an ornate widow’s walk, though why a house hundreds of miles from the ocean needed a widow’s walk, Jim didn’t dare guess.

The question, like so many others of late, must have shown on Jim’s face because Bones explained, “Grandpappa McCoy built this place back when he and Nana got married. Nana always wanted a widow’s walk, so when he built this place he made damn sure she had one.”

As they approached the head of the driveway and the gravel gave way to pavement, Bones took Jim’s hand from his thigh and brought it to his lips, kissing his palm. “Welcome home, Jim,” he said, pulling into a spot in the separate two car garage. “Come on, Mamma’ll be waitin’.” He gave Jim a wink before getting out of the car and waiting for him to do the same. Taking Jim’s hand, Bones gently pulled him along towards the front of the house.

The front porch was as stereotypically Old South as could be with its cushioned porch swing and rocking chairs- one actual wicker- and a small cast iron table with a large pitcher of what Jim was absolutely certain was sweet tea.

The front door opened just as they reached the steps and a smiling, no, _beaming_ woman came out, her long dark hair streaked with grey, and partially pulled back in a ponytail, letting the rest fall over her shoulders. She reminded Jim of one of those old twentieth century film actresses- proud and strong. Opening her arms wide she called, “Leonard!”

“Mamma,” Bones said, going into her outstretched arms, picking her up and swinging her around in a quick circle.

His mother giggled in delight like a child- happy and carefree and so unlike Bones.

Jim couldn’t help but wonder if this was what Bones had been like before the divorce; the thought made him hate the ex even more.

“Oh, how I’ve missed you,” she cooed then cast a look around her son to Jim. “You must be the famous Jim Kirk,” she said, approaching him.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, let’s have a look at you.” She came to stand directly in front of Jim, her green eyes searching his. Smiling, she stepped closer to give Jim a warm hug. “Leonard chose well.”

“Ma’am,” he answered simply, unsure how to respond.

“I won’t be havin’ any of that. It’s Mamma or Betsy,” she told him, looping an arm around one of Jim’s and leading him up to where Bones was watching them from the porch.

Betsy looked consideringly between Jim and her son. “I’m guessin’ you won’t be needin’ the guest room after all,” she said with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

“Mamma!”

“Yes, dear,” she answered innocently.

Bones sputtered.

“Oh, Leonard. I’m a grown woman and you’re a grown man.” She looked at Jim. “You both are. No point standin’ on ceremony. ‘sides, you were gonna tell me that anyway.”

Bones chuckled and kissed his mom’s hair. “I missed you, Mamma.”

“Missed you, too, you crotchety ol’ coot,” she said, wrinkling her nose at Bones playfully. Turning to Jim she asked, “Is he as much of a cantankerous ass with you as he is with me?”

“I think most of the crew would call ‘cantankerous’ a bit of an upgrade,” he replied, laughing at the scowl Bones shot him; a scowl that only deepened when Betsy joined in the laughter.

“Not much changes then. He was always such a serious child,” she told Jim. “Of course, when he decided to have fun, he did. Should’ve seen him. Part monkey, part polecat, probably a bit of porcupine, too.”

“I would love to have seen that, Betsy.” And he would have. He could see a little Bones running around, climbing trees and skinning knees.

Betsy leaned close and stage-whispered to Jim, “I’m sure I have some old holos ‘round. I can show them to you while you’re here.”

“I’d like that,” Jim said, his voice soft and full of honesty rather than mischief.

Betsy’s smile softened. “Well, we’ll just have to do that then.” She gave him a loving pat on his arm. “Now, let’s get you boys settled and you can tell me all about your trip and your adventures on that ship of yours,” she said as she ushered them into the house.

\---------

It was late, close to four in the morning if Jim was any judge, and he couldn’t sleep, which was why he was standing outside on the widow’s walk in a ratty, ill-fitting but entirely too comfortable pair of Bones’ sweats. He’d drifted off easily enough entwined with Bones, feeling loved and secure. But he’d woken up a couple hours ago, thoughts of family and how screwed up he was flooding his mind. Betsy was a wonderful woman, warm and kind with a sharp wit and equally sharp tongue- he could see where Bones got it. Still, he couldn’t help but feel he didn’t belong here; this wasn’t him, he wasn’t home and smiles and laughter and love. He didn’t know how to handle it. And wasn’t that a revelation- something James T. Kirk didn’t know how to handle or at least fake his way through. “What the Hell am I doing here?” he asked the railing.

“My guess,” said a soft voice from behind him, “is thinkin’ ‘bout how different this is from what you’re used to.” Betsy came up to stand beside Jim. “I know about you, Jim Kirk- reckless, wild, brilliant, always living in your father’s shadow, always afraid you’re not good enough, not _deserving_ enough.”

“Betsy-”

“Shoosh, I’m not done, yet. I also know there’re a lotta things you hide and hide well. But you mark my words, young man. My son loves you, has practically since the day you met, though I know he didn’t know it back then- some things a mother just knows. He loves you and Leonard has never loved easily, even before Pamela practically destroyed him. Anyone my son loves as deeply as he loves you is deserving and worthy. You’re part of this family now; I don’t care what you were brought up thinkin’, but here, it means love and caring and takin’ care of each other- all those things you and Leonard have been doing for each other for years. You belong here, _that’s_ what you’re doin’ here.”

Jim didn’t know what to say, to any of it; it was too much, so he settled for standing there, shoulder to shoulder with Betsy watching the night sky. “Thank you,” he said eventually.

Betsy put an arm around him and rubbed his bare arm. “You should get inside before you catch your death.”

“I got it, Mamma,” Bones’ rough timbre floated on the night air as he came forward, blanket in hand.

Turning, Betsy smiled at her son then planted a sweet kiss on Jim’s cheek before leaving them alone.

As soon as she’d gone Jim pulled Bones to him, taking his lips softer and _fiercer_ than he had before, letting himself feel and be felt. Home, this was home, this was love. This was respect and need and want and belonging and _**Bones**_. “I love you,” Jim panted quietly.

Gently, Bones guided Jim over to a comfortable looking outdoor divan. Bones stretched out, sitting against the raised back and arm, and tugged Jim into his lap.

Jim went willingly, shifting until they were lying comfortably together.

As soon as they were settled Bones draped the blanket he’d brought out over them. “Mamma’s right, you know,” he drawled, running his fingers through Jim’s hair, massaging his scalp.

“You heard all that?” Jim asked drowsily.

“Nah, just caught the end, but I know how she is, so I can take a pretty good guess at the rest.”

“Mmm,” Jim agreed blearily as he felt himself begin to nod off. He must’ve fallen asleep because the next thing he knew he was being kissed awake.

“That’s it, darlin’. Let’s get back inside. Got a nice, soft, warm bed for us in there.”

“’kay, B’nes.” He groggily sat up and let Bones lead him back inside and to their bed.

Bones sat Jim on the edge of the bed, removing the baggy sweats and laying him down before shucking his own hastily thrown-on clothes and climbing onto the other side of the bed. He’d barely lain down when Jim started shuffling towards him in his sleep. Sliding down, Bones edged closer, wrapping his arm around Jim’s waist and working a leg between his. He kissed Jim’s sleep-mussed hair, whispering, “Sleep well, sweet’art.”

\---

Jim woke up slowly. Memories of the night floating serenely through his head like wisps of cotton candy that escaped the centrifuge. He blindly reached over only to find the other side of the bed completely Bones-less. “Bones?” He raised his head and peered around the room, his eyes catching on the drawn curtains and shades.

Climbing out of bed, he went to twitch back the curtain. Outside the sun was high in the sky; the feathery clouds did little to deter its rays. In the near distance, just before the tree line that bordered the eastern edge of the property, Jim made out a figure lounging under a large weeping willow. Smiling to himself, he knew it had to be Bones- no one else lounged with such intent, except possibly Spock, but that would involve the Vulcan even knowing how to ‘lounge.’

He dressed quickly and practically bounced downstairs, where he found Betsy in the kitchen packing a basket with sandwiches and two large mason jars of tea.

“I thought I heard you bangin’ around up there,” she said jovially.

“Sorry about that, ma- Betsy,” he corrected quickly.

“We’re getting’ there,” Betsy answered cryptically. “Here, take this out to Leonard. You two have fun.”

Chuckling, Jim took the basket and kissed Betsy’s cheek. “Thanks, Mamma,” he said automatically before he could catch himself.

Betsy beamed at him. “That’s better,” she said, patting Jim’s cheeks in that way only grandmotherly Southern women can. “Now, get. I have things to do.”

Taking his cue, Jim headed out the back door and across the field in the direction of the large willow. He took his time, taking in the feel of the soft grass between his toes, and the fresh smell of pine wafting from the tree line and eventually, Bones. He was stretched out, propped up on one elbow reading, the sun shining down on him through the sparse, thin leaves of the willow. Bones looked at home, Jim thought, and he suddenly understood more than ever why Bones hated space so much. Jim felt something in his chest tightened, realizing he really was the reason Bones was out in the black and not in one of Starfleet’s hospitals or teaching at the Academy. His pace quickened until he was standing in front of his lover, blocking his sun and causing Bones to look up.

Bones smiled that quirky smile that he’d grown more and more accustomed to, yet still thought of as his own. “Was startin’ to think you were gonna sleep the day away,” he teased.

And just like that, Jim’s worries fell to the wayside; he knew they’d come up again and maybe then he’d deal with them, but not right now. Sitting down, Jim placed the basket to the side before gently plucking the book from Bones’ hand, snatching up a fallen leaf to mark his place, and setting it safely on top of the basket.

Bones continued to smile at him, eyes twinkling as Jim pushed him onto his back and climbed on top of him, straddling him.

They kissed long and slow and lazy, like nothing in the world existed but them, the grass, the trees, the birds, and the sun shining down on them. “Tell me again,” Jim murmured after long minutes.

“I love you,” Bones said without hesitation.

Jim chuckled softly. “That, too.” He brought their mouths together for another kiss. “Tell me again,” he asked again.

Bones’ eyebrow quirked up inquisitively.

“What you said when we first got here,” Jim clarified.

Jim knew Bones understood as soon as he’d said the words- his green-hazel eyes softened and his hand cupped Jim’s cheek as Bones pulled him closer, lips barely brushing just before he whispered, “Welcome home, Jim.”

If Bones thought the Georgia sun was bright… well, it held nothing to the smile spreading across Jim’s face.

Jim exhaled a sigh of relief, kissing Bones, rubbing their foreheads together, randomly saying things like, “home” “Bones” and “I love you.” Eventually things slowed. The words- simple and heartfelt “I love you”s. The kisses- lingering and sweet like fresh picked honeysuckle. Jim smirked into one of those lazy kisses, his playful demeanour obviously returning. “So what was that you were saying about having sex in as many inappropriate places as I can find?”

Groaning, Bones twined his fingers in Jim’s hair, yanking him back down for a kiss. “Wanna start here?” Bones asked pushing his hard cock against Jim’s leg.

“You read my mind, baby.”

Their laughter mingled through their next kiss, Bones rolling them over as they laughed.

Looking down at Jim, he traced along an eyebrow. “I do love you, Jim and this is your home, too, for as long as you want it to be.”

“I know.”


End file.
